


Caught

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Dom Kara Danvers, Dom/sub, F/F, Heavy BDSM, Mistress, Nipple Play, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Smut, Sub Lena Luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: The bedroom became your crime scene. The monogrammed sheets sat crumpled beside the bed, the pillows pushed away to make room for the scattered objects beside you that waited patiently to be called upon while you stretched and prepared. The soft stretch of your pale thigh lulled lazily to one side as the television blared with the sort of film that caught your breath. It was the pinch of your stiffening nipple that drew the painful rush of air back into your gulping lungs. The rough roll of that bud between the thumb and forefinger that painted your cheeks pink with the want for her mighty hands on you breasts instead.[AKA Sexual Destruction]





	Caught

The bedroom became your crime scene. The monogrammed sheets sat crumpled beside the bed, the pillows pushed away to make room for the scattered objects beside you that waited patiently to be called upon while you stretched and prepared. The soft stretch of your pale thigh lulled lazily to one side as the television blared with the sort of film that caught your breath. It was the pinch of your stiffening nipple that drew the painful rush of air back into your gulping lungs. The rough roll of that bud between the thumb and forefinger that painted your cheeks pink with the want for her mighty hands on you breasts instead.

There was one bit of the video that had you smashing the rewind button. The bit where the girl on screen twisted on her tip-toes with her wrists bound above her with rope that hung from the rafters. Her thighs quivered as the soft hand of her mistress pushed reassuringly over the nervous push of her belly. The wince in her blushing cheeks as her thighs were gently parted, then made to stay apart as a small silver plug worked around that tight pink knot of muscle by her crooning mistress.

You dip down through your wet lips, gathering that arousal on the pads of your fingertips as they venture past the mouth of your aching cunt. Eventually, you slow between your tight plump cheeks, hesitating and circling around your asshole in rhythm with the mistress on the screen. Now, she’s pressing inside of her little pet—that tight knot of muscle no match for the unyielding gleaming steel being worked into her bottom.

“Good girl, you’re being such a well behaved girl. If only you knew how to be this well behaved all the time we wouldn’t find ourselves here, would we?”

Those words hum through your headphones until she is speaking to you, perhaps even through you, guiding and coaxing your firm fingers into the smooth opening of your bottom.

“Dirty girl,” the mistress chastised her poor pet, reaching around to twist the gleaming silver piercings sat proudly on each breast. It had the girl gasping. “I could use you as a purse, just fill you up with all my things and have you carry them around for me, couldn’t I, slut?” The words flow off her tongue as the plug inches home. You feel the breaths stilt in your throat as the girl on screen weakly nods her head.

You clench your eyes and delve further into your ass, a second finger running around the rim. The slack thigh opens wider. The gasp vaults your chest higher. Your second finger inches further into your rim. Your hips begin to roll to accommodate the stretch.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice growls by the door.

You tear your fingers out and sit bolt upright, blinking and gasping into the devastating emptiness of your ass. You have been caught, well and truly caught. Kara stands there with a glowering stare, her arms folded over one another. You stutter and try to speak but a single raise of her finger has you stalled. For a moment, like a lost little thing, you try to think of some sort of excuse, but it’s already of no use. Her usually-lovely blue eyes examine the room furiously, flitting between the crumpled sheets and the beads rolling beside you that you didn’t even get to know the pleasure of tonight. Then, for just a brief moment, they fall to the flushed crease of your bare wet cunt.

“What is the rule for our homemade movies?” She swallows calmly.

You barely meet her furious stare. “We only watch them together,” you manage weakly and look back down.

At that Kara paused and exhaled unhappily. Her eyes glimpsed over towards the television. She bit her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes, looking back towards you with a thoughtful expression. The sound of her black high heels clicked across the marble as she strided over to you.

“Such a bad, bad girl,” she tutted and grabbed your jaw hard.

You feel each finger wrap into your face, holding you right there for her careful cool-stared appraisal. You whimper and stare up at her as if she is the master of your universe. Eventually, she tilted your jaw towards the television, forcing your to stare at the two bodies pressing against one another, at the mistress slowly palming a large plug deeper between her girl’s trembling cheeks.

“This one is my favourite too,” Kara’s breath burned your neck. “Do you remember how this one ends, kitten?”

“Yes Miss,” you mumble and burn crimson.

“Bend over,” she tells you sternly, releasing your jaw with a forceful push.

You do as you’re told, fingers winding tightly into the sheets as you nervously push up your bottom while your belly rests on the mattress. It has you humming, utterly thrown into manual when it comes to the troublesome act of breathing. You part your thighs. Heat rushes between your legs and you know she can see you squirming.

“Good girl,” her crooning words set you alight. “You’re being a very, very good girl for me. It’s just a shame you don’t know how to do that when I’m not around to put the fear of punishment into you…”

Two fingers swipe gently through your vulva and send you buckling weakly into the safety of the bed. She is a calamine kind of calamity, the pads of her fingers brushing and coating your rim with the slickness of your own arousal. Slowly, deftly, you are made to accommodate two turgid fingertips.

“How far did you stretch yourself, greedy girl?” Her words burn your spine. You turn around to look at her as if pulled from a daydream, blinking and opening your mouth. The fingers in your ass twist deeper and scissor gently. You roll your eyes into the back of your skull and she cuts you off before you can speak. “You’re taking it so easily. Just as well,” she dipped down and growled into the back of your neck. “It made me so mad getting all the way to your office to find out you were in a meeting. That haughty secretary, what’s her name?”

“Amy,” you choke out and every movement of your body becomes tentative and careful.

“Amy! That’s it,” Kara sighed. “Do you know what she said to me, little one?”

“What did she say, Mistress?” You’re not sure you want to know the answer if the pads curling violently into your weakest spot are anything to go by.

“Miss Luthor is far too busy to speak to the press, Miss Danvers. Miss Luthor will call you when _she_ has the time.” You feel her knuckles hilt into your tight opening. “That is no way for your secretary to be speaking to your betters, kitten,” she huffs a displeased noise.

“I’ll fire her in the morning,” your voice becomes a throttled manacled noise as she delivers a hard slap your cunt. “I can make my own coffee, promise.” You sting.

She can’t help but chuckle. You feel victorious for breaking her.

You watch her spare arm reach for something across the bed. You follow her hand with your eyes, curious and barely-present thanks to the onslaught of your tender ass. When you find what she is reaching for, when it occurs to you that she has the largest plug you own firmly in her grip, you’re already giggling and digging your knee into the mattress for the leverage it takes to escape her ministrations.

“Uh uh,” she grabs your hips and yanks you backwards into her pelvis. For a moment you grow slack. You moan, fluttering your eyes as she affords you the briefest bit of friction on your denied cunt from the roughness of her jeans.

Her hand winds into your long raven hair, softly pulling your neck taught by the roots of it. Her fingers are drawn from your bottom, the next thing you are aware of is cool, uncompromising, hard steel being cradled into your ass by her palm.

“You can take it for me, can’t you pet? You are so good at taking tall orders for me princess…”

“Y…yes,” you splutter and groan, stretching for her. “Fuck, when you call me that…” you clench your eyes closed.

“It feels like you can do just about anything in the entire world,” she hums and continues her ministrations.

It slides home with a pained groan. The widest part of the plug makes it past your rim without too much fuss, but as it ventures further inside, as it makes you bend to its unyieldingness, you grunt and struggle with only a firm hand in your hair keeping you tethered to her. You catch a glimpse of Mistress through the mirror leaning against the wall. She is smiling so softly, so proudly, so impressed with you. It has the absence of your usual warm up plug quickly forgiven.

“Get up princess,” she taps the bed, “I want you to kneel for me.”

“Okay okay,” you giggle and cant forward bonelessly into the sheets. You’re not sure if you can move, not quite yet at least. The steel in your ass is still nestling, still rooting you out, and you’re not sure you can move. The thought occurs to you that you love it all the more when you’re incapacitated like this. When you are fucked and owned to such extents that submission requires more energy than you know how to possess. Somehow, always, she brings it out of you.

“You want to taste me?” She whispers into the valley of your spine.

God, you do. “Yes Miss, more than anything,” you promise and already begin to push up on your elbows with renewed vigour.

“Then do as you’re told and kneel for me, I know how much you love to be my good girl. It’s alright, get on your knees, you can be my good girl, pet,” Mistress orders so softly, already unbuttoning her jeans. You can see from the reflection of the mirror that she is wearing your own soft navy satin panties underneath the denim, it dawns on you that she must have threw them on this morning in her rush for work. It wildly turns you on all the more having mistress in your underwear. Your mind begins to do somersaults with the possibilities that maybe, if you are lucky, she will shove them in your mouth to stifle your whimpers if and when she decides to play harder. You imagine the soft musky taste, reinvigorated already.

“Yes ma’am,” you moan and begin to move.

Painful is the wrong word for your current situation. It’s not painful. Not much, at least. The movement in your ass is overwhelming, it burns and then cools almost instantaneously as you shift and clamber to your shaking knees. The plug she palmed into you wasn’t gigantic. Big, but not too much. It was the sort of fullness that kept you teetering on the edge between uncomfortable and utter profound pleasure. As you make yourself upright, leaning backwards onto your calves, she is already clambering onto the bed towards the headboard with ribbon in hand.

“Here baby,” she croons softly as if you’re a puppy, spreading her thighs wide enough for you to fit between. You crawl over. “Give me your wrists,” she demands gently and unravels the ribbon in her hand.

You reach out breathlessly and watch her tie your slim pale wrists with lemon coloured ribbon. She doubles back around a few times, then snakes what’s left of the ribbon between the binds she has wrapped around you in order to tie them in a pretty long bow. There is something so much more humiliating about bondage when the binds you are made prisoner too are soft dainty things, pretty and inconspicuous.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Mistress cooes. It burns your cheeks pink.

“Thank you,” you mumble and refuse to meet her lovely blue eyes.

She doesn’t release your wrists, instead she slumps into the pillows and wriggles on to her spine. You watch her soft dusky nipples stiffen on her small perfect breasts. She catches your eyes staring, the sternness in her expression is enough to make your eyes blink away.

“Settle on your belly,” she commands, and you do as instructed. “I want you to eat me out like you love me, nice and gentle pet.”

“Should be easy,” you breathe and nudge your face forward between her legs.

She is so beautiful spread out like this, her slim thigh lulling to one side while the other hooks around the back of your neck and pulls you into her softest flesh. There’s a flutter that moves through her, that has her breasts gently arching for the ceiling as you press that first kiss into her mound, quickly followed by the second and third, the fourth and fifth, kissing around her soft pink lips as if she might take this privilege away in an instant.

The yellow-ribbon wrists push up onto her belly submissively, cradled between her breasts while you fulfill your singular task, your absolute purpose. Beyond the tied wrists, beyond the delicious fullness inside your tightest knot of muscle, beyond the hot cruel words she casts over your skin with that floral tongue, it’s her loveliness that imbues the truest depths of your submission to the surface. It’s the kindness in her smile while you nuzzle into her thighs and kiss her clitoris gently. It makes a weak fool of you, Lena Luthor.

“Ohh,” she moaned softly as you delve your tongue into the slick mouth of her cunt. You devour her hungrily, rolling your tongue softly around her opening before swiping back up to thrum into her clitoris the rhythm of your ecstatic heartbeat. “You’re going to make a guilty mistress out of me if you keep being so good at that, pet,” she groaned with a certain staccato to her voice.

Your muscles tighten with the excitement of your current predicament, with the overwhelming arousal trumpeting through your bones. It starts in your belly at first, then your fingertips, and before you know it your clenching on that intrusion of your bottom. It makes you feel dirty and delicious, simultaneously. It has you rolling your hips in order to feel it deeper, like a constant reminder nestled inside of you that you are owned by this diaphanous creature. You roll your tongue around the sensitive bud of her clitoris, gently pushing her hood back in order to make her feel every aching inch of your devotion.

“You feel so good when I push my fingers into you, there’s this whimper you do when I stretch your ass just a tiny bit too wide for your liking. Without food or water, I could live off of that whimper for days,” Mistress mumbles incessantly, her chest puffing into the ardour of your love. It makes you smile pridefully.

You begin to softly suck, pulling her tender flesh into the rapture of your tongue, into the instant warmth of your mouth. It’s enough to make her hips lurch upwards. You watch her hands slap the blankets, her knuckles growing white as they find purchase in the sheets. You roll your entire body into the effort it takes to make her clench. Her thighs are no longer stretched and lulling, instead, they snap tightly around your cheeks.

You watch Mistress pause and remember, aware that she cannot be untempered and uncareful with you like that. Almost regretfully, she forces her legs slack with every ounce of self-restraint she has while you nibble and suck around her clit. You somehow find the hubris to giggle into her folds, continuing with your ministrations as if, for a slender moment, you weren’t within a hair’s distance of being crushed to death.

“Lena you’re gonna make me cum,” her voice becomes suddenly staccato again.

“Please cum on my mouth Mistress,” you pull away and mumble against the nook of her thigh with a kiss. “I’ll be such a good girl, so well behaved, just please let me have this,” you beg her and set back to work.

You stir her into a torrent. Whipping her with your tongue. Lashing her trembling cunt. You draw her into your mouth with the tenderest of pulls from your aching mouth, then release her instantly. You do it again and again, determined to make her kill you with those iron thighs so it would seem.

“That’s…it…” she grunts and bucks into your mouth, her hips raising off the bed.

You feel her fall into your chin. She crashes into the weight of her orgasm and you, perfectly soft and human you, are the only thing that catches her with just the roof of your bottom lip. The kisses become soft and needy against her vulva, your tongue suddenly gentle and slow as she tightens and contracts around you. You yank and pull at your wrists, desperately trying to rip them apart so you can grab each of her slack thighs and push forward until her quivering mess is spread open and ready for the taking by your mouth. You cannot get them apart, desperate as you try. It’s enough to make her chuckle as she comes down slowly.

“Good girl,” the praise is whispered tenderly, incessantly, again and again. “Good girl, such a good girl,” she hums you back into a state of passiveness.

“I’m dripping down my thighs, Mistress,” you whisper against her belly with your eyes clenched close, suddenly aware of your own yearning hunger.

“Consequences, consequences.” Mistress sat up and began the slow methodical art of untying your burning wrists. “You think I’m not going to make you twist and wait for an orgasm like a good girl? A lesson in patience will do you a world of good…”

You stare at her dumbfounded.

She wouldn’t—

She isn’t going to make you wait, is she?

“You…you can’t be serious, Kara?” You chuckle. She must be joking.

“Like a car crash, Miss Luthor.” Kara finally released your wrists. She paused for a moment as you hung your head, almost chuntering into your desperation for release.

You feel soft fingers cup beneath your chin and pull you back up to her lovely blue eyed stare, now suddenly calm and gathered and as soft as it always was. “I came over here because I got us reservations. In fact,” she reached around and softly pushed the base of the plug nestled between your cheeks, completely reigniting you again. “I think you’re wearing the exact kind of jewellery for an evening dinner, don’t you?”

“Can we skip the starters and bring the dessert home?” You bite your bottom lip and give her your best soft-eyed stare.

“Well.” Mistress’s stare suddenly darkened with want. “Whipped cream off your back while I fuck you senseless does sound appealing…”

 


End file.
